


Habits

by howdoesonewrite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Getting Back Together, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Scents & Smells, Scratching, Soft Draco, Tired Draco, Tired Harry, that isn't a tag but it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 21:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15228312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoesonewrite/pseuds/howdoesonewrite
Summary: Harry and Draco find themselves spending the night together a year to the date Draco left him.Or the one where Draco and Harry figure out what they want most is each other.





	Habits

**Author's Note:**

> When will I name my own works instead of using song titles????
> 
> Welcome back, lovelies. I missed writing so I wrote this thing. I wish I was patient and skilled and could write a better slow burn fic that's like 10k+ words but alas, I don't have the discipline. I'm working on it! For now enjoy this work loosely inspired by the song Habits by Plested.

_You're the ink on my skin_  
_Through the thick, through the thin_  
_You were mine_  
_I never wanna break your heart_

\------

Tonight marks the 6th anniversary since the war. Harry fixes the cuffs of his shirt while listening to Hermione’s speech on equal rights for witches. He’s standing on the sidelines of the slightly elevated stage in the elegant ballroom the ministry has rented out for the night. It’s the annual war anniversary gala which, over the years, has turned into an event where charity heads and philanthropists mingle. Like always, his speech is last, right after Hermione’s.

The crowd roars in applause and Harry climbs the stars onto the stage. Hermione passes by him on her way off and she gives him a small hug and kiss on the cheek. “Good luck,” she whispers to him. Harry nods. 

He takes center stage and scans the crowd. He knows what face he’s going to see but he can’t help himself. Sure enough, Draco Malfoy is sitting at the back left of the room looking bored. He’s drinking his wine while examining his fingernails, which Harry knows are freshly manicured. Harry takes a shaky breath and draws his eyes away from Draco but it's already too much. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels light headed.

He looks to his right where Hermione is standing off stage. She gives him a smile and moves her hand as if to say “go on”. Harry clears his throat and begins his speech by thanking everyone. His speech is generic, hardly different from each year where he gives gratitude and talks about people they lost in the war, ending with more thanks and a promise to see everyone next year. 

The whole time he talks he’s looking at Draco and the whole time, Draco does not look at him. He preocupes himself with drinking, combing his fingers through his perfect hair and making small remarks to Pansy or Theo. Harry can’t stand it, and by the time he grits out his final ‘thank you’ he feels faint.

He quickly exits the stage as the minister walks up to the mic. Hermione stops him as he beelines for the door. “Where are you going?” she asks, clear worry in her voice. 

Harry stops. He looks back at Draco who has begun eating the tiramisu which has just been served. He looks sensual as he slowly takes a bite and groans around his fork. “I need some air,” is all he says before walking around her and exiting the room. As soon as he’s in the hall he heads to the floos and makes his way home.

\------

Draco watches Harry leave the ballroom. His heart is in his throat but he won’t get up and chase Harry. He refuses to. 

Harry had looked delectable tonight. He was wearing midnight blue robes, open to see his muggle suit. It was fitted perfectly to his body almost like a second skin. His tall frame had commanded power in the suit. Merlin, it was sexy.

Pansy sees Draco’s gaze lingering on the door, lost in thought. “You should go, darling,” she says. 

Draco snaps his head around to look at her. “Have you gone mad? Do you really think Harry wants me to follow him out there?”

“You never know,” she says, sipping her champagne.

“I’m the reason he’s leaving, Pans. I can’t do that,” Draco sighs. “I need a stronger drink.”

Draco gets up and walks to the free bar. There used to be a limit to drinks one could get in the earlier years, or else someone would have surely died from alcohol poisoning after drinking themselves silly due to grief. Thankfully, that restriction was lifted last year so Draco orders 2 shots of tequila and drowns them quickly. He then asks for a glass of fire whiskey and nurses it as he walks back to his table. 

He sits and drains the glass within a few minutes. He gets up 2 more times for glasses of fire whisky but no one says anything. Thankfully, his friends know when to stop talking and let him be. After his third glass he gets up, albeit on wobbly feet, and hugs everyone around the table. “Ima head home,” he says to them, barley keeping his balance. 

“Let me help you,” Theo says, standing up and resting his hand on Draco’s shoulder. 

“Nooooo!!” Draco whines. He shrugs Theo’s hand off. “‘m fine. I ‘an go myself,” he slurs.

“No really, Draco, let me help you,” Theo says. Draco notices the looks that his other friends are giving Theo and becomes angry.

“I’m an adult, ’ll be fine!” he shouts and before they can stop him, he walks out of the room, ignoring all the looks he’s getting from his sudden outburst. He almost falls a couple times as he makes his way to the floo but he doesn’t stop. He rips his jacket off the coat rack and steps into the floo with a handful of power.

For some reason though, he can’t think of his address. He can’t think, period. He just stands in the fireplace with a fist full of powder in one hand and his jacket in the other. When he looks down at his hand though, it’s not his jacket his holding. It’s Harry’s. The soft dragonhide feels like silk in his fingers. ‘He must’ve forgotten it on his way home,’ he thinks. He caresses the hem of the jacket before gently slipping it on himself. He can remember the first time he wore it 2 years ago. On his first date with Harry, Draco had “forgotten” a coat and Harry, being Harry, had wrapped the warm material around Draco’s lean figure. It had become his favorite item in the 1 year that they were lovers.

Draco should leave it here, put it back and leave. But he can’t move his feet. He doesn’t want to unwrap the jacket from himself because it feels safe. It feels like home. He brings the collar to his nose and inhales. It’s a heady scent that makes him sober and drunk at the same time. It smells uniquely like Harry. 

Suddenly, he can’t even begin to think about doing anything but going to see Harry. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t do what he’s about to do but he can’t help it. He closes his eyes, releases the power that's still clenched in his fist and murmurs, “12 Grimmauld Place”.

\------

Harry is staring at the Black family tree, tracing Draco’s linage, when his floo flairs. He’s changed out of his robes and suit in exchange for worn jeans and a soft t shirt. He stands up in the room and begins walking down the stairs to the living room. He’s thankful, as he walks down the staircase, that he’s remodeled the house after moving in 5 years ago. The house is brighter and more open. It has a classy, modern feel while still having small quirks that make it feel like a house that has been lived in. It makes him feel safer as he walks downstairs to meet his guest. ‘It’s probably Hermione or Ron coming to check on me,’ he thinks. 

So, when he reaches the landing, shock does not begin to cover the feeling of his heart pounding, his rib cage tightening or his hands shaking. Draco Malfoy is standing in his living room, looking around the room as though he’s never seen it before.

He’s wearing Harry’s favorite jacket. Draco has his hands deep in the pockets of the warm dragonhide. The jacket somehow makes his outfit 100x sexier. The dragonhide pairs well with his tight fitting trousers and his crisp white shirt. It’s large size hangs down Draco’s sharp shoulders and thin frame like a cascading waterfall. The black contrasts with his porcelain white skin, making him look paler than usual. The sight is enough to turn Harry on.

“What are you doing here,” he asks, his voice is shaky.

Draco still doesn’t look at him. It reminds Harry of tonight at the gala during his speech. It infuriates him that Draco won’t even glance his way.

“Draco,” Harry grits out. He takes a step towards him.

“I, I came to return your jacket,” he says. He still wearing the jacket though and makes no moves to take it off.

Harry notices that he’s acting strange. Draco’s eyes look glazed over and his stance is shifty. He walks closer to Draco. “Are you alright?”

“Mmhmm,” Draco hums. He’s still looking away.

“Draco,” Harry says, softly. He reaches his hand to Draco’s cheek and gently turns his face towards him. Draco’s skin is so soft, Harry imagines it better than a baby’s bottom. Finally, finally, Draco looks at him. Harry can’t breathe when he looks into those gray eyes, but he doesn’t look away.

“I’m alright,” Draco says, but as soon as he speaks, Harry can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“You’re drunk,” Harry says, dropping his hand from Draco’s chin and taking 2 steps back. “Of course you're fucking drunk,” Harry says with a shake of his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco says. He balls his fists up inside the pockets of the jacket.

“Nothing, Draco.” Harry rubs his temple with his finger. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Why are you so angry? I just came to return this!” Draco says. He pulls one hand out of the pocket ands grips the fabric at his chest.

“Then why are you wearing it?” Harry growls. He’s mad and Draco knows it. “Why do you do this, Draco? Why do you get drunk and come here while wearing my jacket?”

“I don’t know,” Draco mumbles. His voice is soft, barely a whisper. Draco begins taking off the jacket. He slips his hands out of the sleeves and holds it out for Harry to take. He feels like he’s losing his home as he stands there with his hand stretched out but he knows he had already lost his home when they broke up. When he left.

His hand begins to shake with it outstretched. “Take it,” he says. Harry stares at him dumbly. “Take it!” he says, louder now. Harry still just stands there. “Goddammit, Harry. Take the fucking jacket!” he yells. Harry reaches out, his eyes never leaving Draco’s. Harry notices that he’s crying when he pulls his hand back, this time with the jacket clasped between his fingers.

Draco’s crying too. Tears trickle down his face as he watches Harry bring the jacket to his nose and smell. Even though he only had it on for a few minutes, the jacket already smells like Draco. Warm and sweet, like vanilla. 

Draco looks on for another moment before turning around and taking a handful of floo powder.

“Draco wait,” Harry says, before Draco can step in the floo. 

“What now, Harry,” Draco says. He looks exhausted. There are bags under his eyes and he has a hunch to his shoulder.

“Stay?”

“Why?” 

Harry doesn’t have to say anything, and he knows Draco will stay. He’s already relaxing and looks like he’s about to drop the floo back in the tin. Still, Harry speaks. “I know you’re tired. Maybe we could just sleep?” Harry says.

Draco looks at him as though he’s crazy. Harry continues. “You look as though you haven’t had a good nights sleep in months and if we’re being honest, I haven’t either. I just want to sleep, Draco. Don't you?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Draco says. He drops the floo powder back and steps further into Harry’s living room. “Are you going to lend me some clothes?” he asks.

“I can do that,” Harry says. 

Harry walks up stairs with Draco following close behind him. Draco had been at Grimmauld Place nearly every night they dated. He knows the house well. He runs his fingers up the railing as he walks and he remembers all the times Harry had pushed him against them as they kissed. He remembers fucking on the 3rd floor landing when they just couldn’t seem to make it to their bedroom. He also remembers sneaking down the stairs the day he left, clothes shrunken in his pocket. He remembers lingering on the stairs, thinking about turning back but he hadn’t. He shakes these thoughts away. ‘Tonight will be different,’ he thinks.

Harry opens the door to his room. It’s the exact same but completely different from how Draco remembers. The furniture and layout haven’t changed but the feeling of the room is off. Sad and empty.

Harry is rummaging in the drawers and he pulls out a pair of black sweats and a worn Magpies shirt. He hands it to Draco.

“I’m going to, er, put the kettle on. Maybe that’ll help you sober up a bit,” Harry says. He looks at Draco one last time before closing the door, leaving Draco alone to change. Draco appreciates the gesture even though just being here has managed to mentally sober him up.

It’s crazy, to Draco, that Harry could still trust him. Even after a year, Harry still leaves him alone in his room. Draco’s heart swells at the thought. 

He begins unbuttoning his shirt. He hangs it up in the wardrobe then removes his trousers. He folds those up and places them neatly in the wardrobe as well. Then he picks up the clothes that Harry left him. He brings the shirt to his nose and sniffs. He could get high off of this scent. He could probably come on the smell alone. At this thought, his cock begins to stir but he knows he shouldn't. He quickly puts on the shirt and the sweats before making his way downstairs for some tea.

\------

When he gets downstairs, Harry has the tea ready and set on the small table in the kitchen. He smiles at Draco when he enters. “You still like 3 sugars and milk right?” he asks.

Draco nods, he has a bit of a sweet tooth. Harry looks pleased with himself and begins sipping his own tea. They drink in silence, and when their cups are empty, Draco takes them both and washed them in the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry says. He leaning on the counter, watching Draco scrub the cups.

“It’s the least I can do,” Draco says. He places the cups in the drying rack then wipes his hands clean on the dish towel Harry has by the sink. 

“So?” Draco says after he’s finished.

“Come on, then,” Harry says. He begins the journey back upstairs to his room with Draco in tow.

As they reach the bedroom Harry turns around and looks at him. “You want this, right? I’m not imagining this?”

Draco doesn’t know what he means but ‘this’ but he nods. He wants whatever Harry can give. This seems to relax Harry too and they walk into the room. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom. Brush my teeth and all. You’re welcome to use it after me,” Harry says. Draco replies with a sound of agreement and sits on the bed as Harry walks into the ensuite bathroom. 

Draco runs his hands along the duvet then under to the sheets. They’re just as soft as he remembers them being. The sheets are crisp and white, while the duvet is a soft green. The first time Draco had seem them he had been surprised by the color. But, after coming to know Harry, he found that they suit him well. 

Harry exits the bathroom in light blue sweats and a black tshirt. “All yours,” he says. “Feel free to use whatever you need.”

Draco thanks him and walks into the bathroom. It’s clean in here. Harry doesn’t seem like the type but Draco knows he’s secretly a clean freak. Everything is organized and tidy. Draco knows that Harry also keeps extra toothbrushes under the sink. When he looks, there are 4 brand new brushes in a small cup. Draco takes one and Harry’s toothpaste and cleans his teeth. Next, he washes his face and finally he uses the toilet. Once he’s clean, he heads back out to the room.

Harry is already sitting in bed. He has a book out, A Wizadering Guide to Home Improvement Spells. Draco hesitates at the doorway and Harry puts the book down. “Come on,” he says, patting the space next to him. Draco notices that Harry is on the right. He remembered that Draco always preferred the left side of the bed. The thought makes Draco’s heart beat faster.

Draco walks over to the left side and moves the covers of the bed slowly, as though he’s afraid he might rip them. Then he slips into them and looks down at his hands. “I thought you were done remodeling the house,” he says, commenting on the book.

Harry lets out a small laugh. “I am. Just want to touch up a few things,” he says.

“Oh.”

They sit in silence a little bit longer until Harry reaches over and turns the light off. “Let’s get some sleep,” he says. Draco nods and snuggles further into the covers.

They lay down next to each other, a large space keeping them apart. Draco turns to his side away from Harry. He waits for Harry’s breathe to even out but it never happens. They just lay down, listening to the crickets chirping in the crisp spring night.

“You know,” Harry says, “I always dream about you.”

Draco lets out a shaky breath.

“That’s why I can’t sleep. I see you in my dreams,” he pauses, “and in my nightmares.”

Draco stays silent for a minute before speaking. “What, what are they about?” he asks.

“Everything. Sometime they’re good. We’re happy together, have a house, things like that. Sometimes we’re making love.” Draco lets in a sharp breath at that. 

“And then sometimes, there are the nightmares.” He doesn’t continue. Draco doesn’t ask him to because he knows what those are. He gets them too. Harry lying dead in his arms, Harry in his own pool of blood, Harry not breathing, and Draco never being able to save him.

“I’m sorry,” Draco says because he can’t think of anything better.

Then Draco feels strong arms wrapped around him. Harry presses his face against the nape of Draco’s neck and holds him close to his body. Draco tenses up at first, but then Harry is drawing circles onto Draco hand with his thumb and he begins to relax. He muscles unclench and his jaw goes slack. He finally feels safe after months of going to sleep in an empty, cold bed. 

Harry presses a kiss to Draco’s hair. “Sleep,” he says. Draco does just that.

\------

Draco withers around the floor of the forbidden forest, yelling out in pain. The Dark Lord has him under cruciatus curse. His evil snake like eyes gleam as he looks down at Harry who is tied and on the floor.

“This is your fault,” he says in a slimey voice. “You did this to him.”

Draco gasps out in pain. “Harry!” he yells. 

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Harry cries out. There are tears streaming down his face as he watches Draco thrash around the floor in agony. “I’m sorry.”

“Harry!” Draco yells out again.

The clock reads 1:23 am when Harry jolts awake. He’s sweating and shaking. He looks around and comes face to face with Draco who is leaning over him in concern.

“Harry, are you okay?” Draco asks, his voice panicked.

“It was just a dream,” Harry says, more to himself than to Draco.

Draco nods solemnly and accios a cup. He fills is with water and hands it to Harry. Harry takes it with shaky hands and sips.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asks.

Harry shakes his head and hands Draco the cup back. Draco places it on the nightstand. 

Then, he reaches over and grabs Harry. He pulls him into a tight embrace and rocks him gently. Harry slumps in his arms and wraps himself around Draco. Harry begins crying and Draco shushes him, whispering sweet things into his ear and telling him it’ll be okay. He’s safe, no one will hurt him. They stay this way for a while. Draco runs his hands through Harry’s hair and Harry cries into his neck. When Harry’s tears stop, Draco pulls away and wipes his face with his sleeve. 

“We can go back to sleep,” Harry says, his voice hoarse, “I should be fine now.”

“Okay,” Draco says, but he doesn’t move away.

He lays down where they are and drags Harry down with him. Harry lies down and Draco rests his head against Harry’s chest. They fall asleep to each other’s breathing.

\------

Draco wakes up at 2 to use the bathroom. The pressure on his bladder is uncomfortable after a night of drinking so much. He untangles himself from Harry, careful not to wake him up, then walks over to the bathroom.

When he comes back out Harry is awake, staring at the ceiling with his hands stretched above his head. Harry doesn’t look at him as he crawls back into bed and lays down on his chest again. Harry brings his hand down tentatively and begins playing with Draco’s hair.

“I thought you left again,” Harry whispers, so quietly Draco almost misses it. 

A rush of guilt washes over Draco. He remembers the night a year ago. It was the night of the gala. He got scared, panicked and packed all his stuff while Harry slept and left without a single word.

“I’m sorry,” Draco says, not for the first time that night. 

Harry stops stroking his hair and rests his hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Why did you leave, Draco? You never told me why,” he says, sadness dripping down his voice.

“I don’t know,” Draco says.

“Wow,” Harry says. He lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “You don’t know.” Draco can practically feel Harry rolling his eyes.

“It’s not that simple,” Draco says. He pushes his head up to look at Harry.

“Nothing we do is simple, Draco. Look at us. We have spoken in a year and here we are. Sleeping in the same bed, holding each other and avoiding our problems,” Harry says. Even though the words are harsh they spoken gently as though not to scare Draco.

No one speaks for a while. Then, “I was scared,” Draco starts. “I was so fucking scared, Harry. I had never been so invested in someone else’s life, and I was scared because you meant so much to me. Ever since we were kids, everything I did, every action and every thought, revolved around you. I was scared when I realized just how intertwined we were. And I was terrified of you not wanting me. That one day you’d regret being with me and you’d leave. I was so scared of you and me so I left. And Harry, I have regretted that night everyday for the past year. I shouldn’t have done that to you. You deserve so much better,” Draco says.

“Draco,” Harry sighs. He begins caressing Draco’s hair again. “You should have talked to me about your fears. I loved-I love you so much. I would never walk away from you, Draco. I choose you everytime. It’s always been you, Draco. Even when we were young and before I knew it too, it’s always you and it will always be you.”

“It’s always been you for me too, Harry. I still love you. I love you so much it hurts,” Draco says, squeezing Harry’s chest.

Harry tilts Draco’s head up from his chest and looks into his eyes. Before Draco knows it, Harry lips are pressed against his own. Harry’s lips are chapped and he has stubble on his chin but it doesn’t matter. His lips taste like mint and tea and they move against his own like they were sculpted specifically to fit Draco. 

Harry sits up and drags Draco up with him until Draco is sitting in his lap, never letting go of each other the entire time. Harry drags his hands lightly down Draco’s body which causes him to shiver. He brings his hands down underneath Draco’s shirt to feel his warm skin against his own.

“Harry,” Draco sighs against his lips. He’s pulling Harry closer, clinging to him.

Harry tugs on Draco’s shirt, breaking their kiss briefly to pull it above his head. Then he does the same with his own shirt. When they’re skin to skin, Draco lets out a soft sound and continues to kiss him.

Harry runs his hand down Draco’s chest. He traces the scar he placed there all those years ago and whispers an apology against Draco’s mouth. Then he moves his hand down to Draco’s naval and slides it under Draco’s waistband to cup his heavy length. Draco let’s out a groan and ruts as Harry begins pressing his hand firmly into him.

Harry’s own cock is straining against his sweatpants but his focus is solely on Draco. He pushes Draco’s pants down to uncover his member and begins stroking him.

Draco wraps his arms tightly around Harry’s torso and presses his nails into Harry’ back. He moves his lips down to Harry’s shoulder and nips at the skin.

“Please, please, please,” he chants, clawing at Harry. The sting Harry feels on his back only increases his desire. 

Draco’s head falls back and he whimpers as Harry circles his slit with his thumb. Harry runs his hands along Draco’s length faster after that. His grip tightens just a little bit as he sucks on Draco’s throat, marking him.

“You’re doing so good,” Harry murmurs against his skin. “So beautiful.” He speeds up his movements until Draco is withering against him.

When Draco comes, it’s with Harry’s name on his lips. His nails dig into Harry’s back and his back arches beautifully. He throat is exposed and Harry can admire the deep marks that he’s sucked into Draco’s skins. The warm cum coats Harry’s hand and chest. 

Finally, Draco slumps in Harry’s arms. He’s breathing heavy. He buries his face into Harry’s neck. Harry strokes Draco’s back as he begins to rut against Draco’s spent body. He’s so close from watching Draco. A few movements of his hips and his aching cock spurts in his sweats. He presses his face into Draco’s hair as he comes.

They sit there together is each other’s arms until Draco let’s out a loud yawn. “Can we actually sleep now?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Harry says. He kisses Draco softy and spells them clean with wordless, wandless magic. Draco shivers underneath his hands.

Harry eases them onto the bed. 

“I love you, Draco,” he says. 

“I love you too.” 

Draco burrows into Harry’s warm arms and they finally get a good night's sleep

\------

They sleep until noon. Harry wakes with Draco tucked in his arms, chest pressed against back. He presses small kisses on Draco’s back and eases Draco out of sleep.

Draco stirs gently and turns around to face Harry. “I was busy,” he mumbles, pressing his nose to Harry’s chest.

“Oh? With what?” Harry says.

“If you must know,” Draco groans, “You were fucking me. Nice and deep.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Harry says, laughing and kissing Draco’s hair.

Draco shakes his head. “Hungry,” he says.

“After breakfast then?” Harry asks. He tilts Draco’s face to his own with his hands and kisses Draco’s mouth open.

Draco is the first to pull away. “You’d let me stay? Even after what I did?” he asks, unsure of himself.

“You can stay.” Harry confirms. “I want you, Draco, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Don’t say that because I’ll never be out of your hair,” Draco sighs dramatically.

“That’s my hope,” Harry says back.

Draco kisses Harry again. “I’m sorry. I won’t leave you. Not this time. Not ever. I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too, Draco.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://howdoesonewrite-help.tumblr.com)


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